Wicked Ability: The Story of Johanna Mason
by Nick210
Summary: Deceit, romance, and blood. The untold story of Johanna Mason's experience in the Hunger Games.
1. The Smirk

**The Smirk**

I have always enjoyed the day of the Reaping. Getting to see everyone's nervous faces as they pray their name will not be called. In District 7, being called almost always means certain death. It is just not our way of life. We are not like the "Career" districts who can devote their lives to training. We need to work. Each and every day for hours. Its not that our tributes aren't physically capable of winning, they are just not trained. And that's what makes the Games so enjoyable to watch.

Each year I get to see two of my classmates squirm in the arena. Sometimes they are people I know, maybe even a friend. But usually they aren't, so I don't care. I just enjoy watching. The speed at which they run, the looks of horror on their faces, and their desperate pleas all bring a small smile to my face. No one would ever assume I liked it, but deep down the Games have always been a highlight of my year in this boring district.

Pulling my blouse on, I took a deep breathe. I hated getting dressed up. It was the only bad thing about the Reaping. Looking in the mirror, I saw my mother. She was doing it again. Staring at me with that sad look in her eyes. The look she always got on this day.

My mother knows the Games well, she had once been in them as a seventeen-year-old. Back then she was young and strong, beautiful and intelligent. She was able to evade everyone and hide until there were only a handful of tributes left. Then she began to make her move, slowly drawing tributes to one another and escaping as they fought. Finally, when she was one of the final two tributes, she won by catching the other tribute in a tree snare. Ultimately hanging him to death.

She hated having to cause so much pain and death, but she knew she had no choice. In the Games its kill or be killed. There's no third option. Now she refuses to talk about her experience. Instead she chooses to focus on my father and I. Making sure we're constantly happy and safe. I only know what I know because of my father.

"Stop" I tell her. "If its me, its me. There's nothing either one of us can do about it."

She smiles at me, but the look doesn't leave her eyes. It won't. Not until I am too old to be reaped. I'm her only daughter. Probably the only thing that keeps her and my father sane. So I smile back. I do love her, I just don't like showing my emotions. I feel it makes me appear weaker than I am. Which is something I really do not need with my physical appearance.

When we were both ready, we started out the door to meet my father. He was already in the Square waiting. The Reaping would be starting soon and we needed to hurry. Just before walking out, I turned and caught my reflection in the mirror. I didn't like the way I looked all dressed up, but it was only for a couple of hours. Turning to leave, my mouth formed its usual smirk. The nice, but confident smirk which I had constantly plastered across my face. The one that told people I was as approachable and nice as I looked.

Outside it was like any other day in District 7. Long, dark shadows covered most of the street and the scent of pine filled the air. For being one of the largest districts in all of Panem, the overwhelming majority of our district was made up of our forest. Our small village just sat on the outside of the giant trees. The people we saw in the streets had mixed emotions. Some were glad for the day off while others, mostly parents, were anxious and nervous.

After a few minutes we had reached the Square. It was towards the end of our district, near our house in the deserted Victors' Village. My father greeted us as we got there and gave me a hug before I headed to the Sixteen's section. The look in his eyes was the same my mother had. For some reason, it was harder seeing the look in his eyes.

Inside the Sixteen's section, I felt like an outsider. I looked completely different compared to all of the other girls. They looked like the typical girl from District 7: strong and physically fit from long hours working in the forest. With a pale skin tone, short brown hair, and shorter frame. I, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. With my tall, slender frame I looked like I had never worked a day in my life. On top of that I had a darker skin tone with long dark hair that fell beyond my shoulders.

At school I was often taunted for being different. Girls told me I was ugly and none of the boys would talk to me. They just stared whenever I was in the room. My parents told me I was beautiful even with my differences, and at first I didn't believe them. Then I started spending more time with my father. We would work in our yard, cutting lumber and planting seeds we would find in the forest for my mother. Even though I didn't look it, I began to feel stronger and more confident. I just wish the other girls would have noticed that.

As I went to sit down in one of the open seats, some of the girls from my grade came up to me and began snickering. "Hey, Twig!" they jeered. I had learned not to pay attention to them. I knew that words only affected those who let them. Luckily I didn't need to stall for long because walking towards the stage was our Mayor followed shortly by the Capitol escort.

This was always the most boring part of the Reaping. Beginning his speech with a list of District 7's previous winners, the Mayor optimistically spoke of the Games and prestige that came with winning. Deep down, he and everyone else in the Square knew that another District 7 winner wasn't likely.

Before our Mayor had even extended the microphone, the escort yelled "Good morning District 7! As you all know, my name is Ambrosia Figg and I could not be more excited for these Games to begin. I have a good feeling about this year!" Even with her golden hair and perky smile, I could tell that she did not enjoy her job. No amount of makeup or color could hide something like that.

Greeting everyone with her winning smile and regal wave, Ambrosia walked to the edge of the stage where two large glass balls were located. Everyone knew what was about to happen. She would reach in and condemn two children to their deaths as if she were doing them a favor.

"As always, ladies first." As she reached her long arm in, she made exaggerated motions attempting to play on everyone's anticipation. With a surprised expression on her face she slowly drew her hand out. Holding up the small folded paper with a smile on her face, she read "Johanna Mason!"

Snickers and jeers. Laughs and gasps. I was in total shock as I sat there. Never had I felt more different. Then someone shoved me from behind hard and I shifted forward. Standing, I began to walk towards the stage, through a crowd of people with indifferent looks on their faces. "Aw, there you are." Ambrosia greeted as I walked up to the stage. "Is there anything you would like to say?"

Forming my usual smirk, I said in confidence "I will miss you all, but hopefully we will all see each other shortly." Then I was pushed to the background to stand next to our Mayor. The entire time Ambrosia was choosing the lucky boy's name, I could feel the Mayor staring at me. I could not tell if he was doing so disapprovingly or out of sorrow, but I knew that he did not think I would be coming back. No one did, no matter how confident I tried to portray myself as.

**Please take a quick minute to review this chapter.**

**Your comments and critiques will really help as I try to develop my style of writing.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Prologue

"_She portrayed herself as weak and helpless. Then she demonstrated a wicked ability to murder."_

**Disclaimer: **I am in no way attempting to infringe on Suzanne Collins' work. I do not own the Hunger Games. This is simply my take on an interesting, yet fairly undeveloped character.

**Prologue**

Johanna Mason was not your typical girl from District 7. As the daughter of a previous Victor and someone physically different than the rest of her community, she was often viewed as an outcast. She thought her life was a nightmare, until she was reaped. That was when she discovered just how bad her life truly was. Everything she knew began to change as tensions rose. Seemingly weak and innocent, she was forced to go to extremes or risked losing everything. This is her story.

* * *

><p><strong>Rules:<strong>

**Influencing the outcomes.** While this is not a fan-fiction in which I am accepting user-submitted tributes, I will be offering points during the story in which users may influence the plot. In order to do this, you simply need to review my story. Those who submit the most reviews will have the most say in the events. Simple as that.

**Please no flaming. **This is my first attempt at a fan-fiction. I am definitely open to any and all advice / critiques, but please if you plan on writing something negative, at least make it constructive. Thanks

**Have fun. **My goal is to write something that is enjoyable for everyone.


	3. Not Really Saying Goodbye

**Not Really Saying Goodbye**

It seemed like I had been standing on stage for an eternity. Just staring out at the crowd of people trying to avoid eye contact. Before Ambrosia's voice once again chimed over the microphone. "Ashton Birch!" she yelled with her faulty Capitol cheer. His name was familiar in my head, but I didn't recognize him until he stood up in the Seventeen's Section.

He was in the grade above me. Tall, muscular, and lean; he walked to the stage with confidence, even though we both probably knew our destinies. It usually didn't matter how physically capable District 7's tributes were. Most people knew this, but as he walked, people actually cheered and clapped quietly. With each cheer I felt more and more alienated. I guess looking the part is most of the battle when looking for support in the Games.

Walking to meet Ambrosia, Ash shook her hand and took the microphone, already knowing what she was going to ask. "Everyone can call me Ash. I will do my best to win this for District 7." Then he gave me a halfhearted smile.

Ambrosia took back her microphone as I walked up to meet them at the front of the stage. "Alright, now that we have our tributes, that leaves us with one important missing piece. Their mentor. Now, we all know that District 7 has two living Victors. In the past, all of District 7's tributes have gone into the Games under the guidance of the infamous Blight."

I remembered Blight. Everyone in District 7 knew him or at least of him. He was one of the nicest people in the entire district, but he was also one of the oldest. I could see him slowly making his way to the stage with the help of our Mayor. "Without further ado" Ambrosia continued "I would like you all to give a round of applause for-"

"I volunteer!" someone in the audience screamed. Even in its altered stare of fear and urgency, I would know that voice anywhere. Through the crowd of confused faces I saw her slowly making her way towards the stage. My mother.

Walking directly past the Peacekeepers and up onto the stage, my mother grabbed the microphone from Ambrosia. "My name is Camille Mason. Winner of the 51st Hunger Games and I volunteer as mentor."

Shocked and for once seemingly out of words, Ambrosia just stared out over the crowd of people as it erupted into cheers. Never before had she seen such emotion from our district. Never before had our people been so rallied. Gaining her composure and taking the microphone, she looked to Blight for an answer. Shaking his head, he smiled and stood watching with the help of the mayor.

"Alrighty!" she cheered. "It appears we have our team! Now everyone remember to tune in and support your tributes in the 70th Hunger Games! And as always, Ash and Johanna. May the odds be _ever_ in your favor!"

As the anthem played, Ambrosia gently grabbed our hands. As if she could prevent us from running away. Then the moment the anthem ended, we were taken into custody with a group of Peacekeepers. We walked in a group to our district's Justice Building about a block away. Once we were inside, Ash and I were led to separate rooms where we were left alone. I had no idea what was happening, but I knew that we would be leaving for the Capitol soon.

As the door creaked open, my heart jumped. I had no idea who to expect, but I was relieved to see my father walk in. He was my rock. If anyone knew how to console me before the Games it would be him. "What are the odds?" I said with a smile on my face.

He could always tell when I was hiding what I really felt. "Jo, its alright. You don't have to brave

here. Out there, yes, but here its just me. Are you going to be alright?"

It took me a minute before I could respond. I just kept staring down at the ground, twiddling my thumbs. I had never thought that I would actually be the one reaped. That's when I began to cry. Just thinking about all of the faces of horror I had seen in the games. The ones that used to entertain me. I would bet anything that my face was just as bad at the moment. "I don't know" I answered honestly.

This was one of the few times my father had seen me cry. At first he didn't answer, he just sat down beside me and pulled me into his arms. We sat there for a few minutes, just staring at the thick, expensive carpet. Finally, he broke the silence. "I have faith in you. You know that, right? You are intelligent, beautiful, and definitely strong. Let the other tributes underestimate you. Just do me a favor and prove them wrong in the end, alright?"

I couldn't help smiling at my father's words. He had always been there for me when I needed him. And I definitely needed him now. "Alright." I replied. I wasn't sure if I was any more confident, but his support at least made me feel better. I just felt bad that not only would I be leaving, but that my mother would be going as well. He would have to go through everything on his own. No matter what would happen to me.

Then a knock on the door reminded us that I had only a little bit of time before my train would leave. Without another word we just stayed sitting in an embrace. I felt completely safe in his arms and I wanted to cherish every moment I had left with my father. Finally, he rubbed my shoulder and we both stood up. Walking to the door, we hugged one final time.

Kissing me on the forehead he grabbed my shoulders and looked me dead in the eyes. "Do whatever you have to in order to come back alive. I know you can do it. I have faith in you." Kissing my forehead one last time, he left.

It wasn't long of a wait before Ambrosia came knocking at my door. Opening it quickly and smiling, she politely ordered me to follow her into the Justice Building's lounge. There my mother and Ash were waiting for us.

"Okay, if everyone's ready we better start heading out for the train!" Ambrosia mused. Quietly walking towards the door, I grabbed my mother's hand and we all left the Justice Building.

**Please take a quick minute to review this chapter.**

**Your comments and critiques will really help as I try to develop my style of writing.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	4. My Competition

**My Competition**

The station was swarming with reporters when we arrived. From the inside of Ambrosia's expensive Capitol car I could see all of the cameras fixated on our doors. They were waited for us with their giant cameras. Waiting to see us take the first steps to our deaths. It was now or never.

"Are you all ready?" Ambrosia asked cheerfully reaching for the door's handle. Straightening her golden hair and adjusting her amber suit, she opened the door and stepped out. Immediately we saw her on the giant television screen standing beside the car. They were televising our arrival live for all of Panem. "Alright everyone, there waiting!" she reminded us.

Wiping my face clean of emotion, I stepped out. The lights of the cameras lit up the late evening sky, blinding me. I couldn't see anything beyond a few feet in front of me, but everyone could see me. It didn't take long before Ash was at my side followed by my mother. Our "team."

"Everyone smile for one last picture!" I heard. Forcing a small smile on my face I looked into the blinding lights, praying that I appeared more confident than I was feeling. A minute later I felt Ambrosia reach for my hand as she began to pull me through the crowd waving as she went.

With her leading the way, greeting the reporters, it was not long before we had made our way through the crowd and to the train. I did not hesitate. I jumped up into the train, desperately wanting to get out of Panem's eyes. My mother and Ash were right behind me as I stepped a few feet in.

"Goodbye everyone! We will see you all in the Capitol!" Ambrosia mused to the reporters as the train doors slid to a close. Turning to face us, she yet again told us to follow her. Down a long hall way we went, before finally arriving in what appeared to be the dining cart.

"Its exactly as I remember…" my mother whispered, running her hand gently down the tablecloth. It was the first time I had really noticed her face since we had left the car. She had a look in her eyes as she spoke. One filled with sorrow and desperation that made me hate myself a little more for forcing her to endure this pain all over again.

The table was covered in an array of amazing looking food. Different types of soups and meats, breads, everything we could possibly ask for. But I wasn't hungry. I just sat there quietly picking apart a roll. I hadn't said a word since arriving. No one had really, except for Ambrosia.

"Well, how is everyone-" Ambrosia began before getting interrupted by the crackling sound of the television. Hanging at the far end of the table, the static-filled television flickered to an image of the Capitol's seal. All of us sat there in silence, just staring. A minute passed and then another.

"Hello Panem!" a legendary voice boomed over the television. "Today was an exciting day wasn't it?" It was Caesar Flickerman, the annual host of the Hunger Games. Every year, he was in charge of entertaining Panem throughout the Games. He would interview the tributes, add commentary during the chariot rides, and more.

"As you all know. It is time to introduce to you, your tributes." he continued. "So without further ado, here they are…"

The screen faded to black before the first two images came up. "District 1 Tributes" it read above the pictures. On the left it showed a beautiful girl. She was slender, with flowing silvery blond hair that fell beyond her shoulders. Her piercing blue eyes highlighted her stunning face. Below, her description explained: "Name: Gem. Age: 18. Volunteered."

Next to her was a strong looking blond boy. His face appeared genuinely gentle, but the fierce look in his green eyes gave the warning not to underestimate him. Like Gem, below him it read: "Name: Sterling. Age: 16. Volunteered." That was always the case with the "Career" districts. They were always strong. Always deadly. And they always volunteered to prove their strength and superiority.

Again the screen faded to black before the second set of images appeared. "District 2 Tributes." Another fearsome "Career" district. The pictures that came up lived up to their district's reputation. On the left there was a strong looking girl. Her dark brown hair was shoulder-length and pulled into a ponytail revealing her cold face and complacent gaze. Below her it read: "Name: Deserae. Age: 17. Volunteered."

On the right was her male counterpart. He had short cropped black hair, wide shoulders, and a big torso. Along the left side of his face ran a painful looking scar. But the thing that caught my eyes was his smile. It was that of someone who would do anything and everything to win. I had seen it in past games. Usually it belonged to the people who entered the games for the sheer enjoyment and thrill of killing. Below him his description read: "Name: Barrack. Age: 17. Volunteered."

As the screen faded to black, I noticed my mother's expression. I guess she hadn't found anymore faith in me after seeing my first four competitors. I guess she's right. I've seen a lot of Careers in the past, but these are some of the biggest.

The next tributes shown were a lot smaller. "Name: Axel. Age: 14. Reaped." it read underneath the picture of a slim, brown haired boy. He looked nice, definitely young with all of his freckles. Next to him was an equally nice, young looking girl. She had beautiful long brown hair with giant green eyes. Below her it read: "Name: Mie. Age: 15. Reaped."

With the two newest tributes my mother's appearance seemed to improve a bit. She must think I have a chance of actually beating these kinds of tributes. I couldn't help but smile. Even my own mother is doubting me. My smile was short lived; disappearing as soon as the next district was shown.

"Wow." blurted Ambrosia, covering her mouth as if startled. One the screen was a stunning girl. Tall and slender with an athletic build. Her caramel brown hair fell down beyond her shoulders with an amber flower tucked behind her ear. Her piercing bright green eyes and smile lit up her face.

"District 4." it read across the top of the screen. "Name: Scylla. Age: 16. Reaped." She was beautiful. Definitely not someone I would have expected in the games. Next to her was a lean, muscular looking guy with curly brown hair and dark brown eyes. Like Scylla, he had a smile on his face. Below him it read: "Name: Kai. Age: 15. Volunteered."

As the screen faded to black I just sat there completely in awe. "I wonder why no other girls volunteered." questioned Ash. "Doesn't District 4 usually have Career tributes?"

I hadn't really thought about it. It was unusual for a "Career" district to have a tribute reaped. By then the screen had already returned with the next set of tributes. Two very young looking kids. They were nearly identical, possibly even siblings. They both had sleek black hair and eyes with a small frame and indifferent smile. "Name: Deidre. Age: 13. Reaped." and "Name: Cid. Age: 13. Reaped." were written across the bottom of the screen.

The next two tributes embodied a hard life. The slim blonde girl on the left had a face worn with stress and eyes dripping with desperation, but her calm smile still made her seem approachable. Below her it read: "Name: Lin. Age: 14. Reaped." She, however, appeared much more composed than the male tribute to her right. His messy blonde hair fell down to his wide, vacant eyes. His was just as thin as Lin, but his smile only drew more attention to the array of faint bruises decorating his face. "Name: Aspir. Age: 13. Reaped."

As the screen faded to black I realized who was coming next. Us. The moment of truth; the moment I would see if my attempts at hiding my emotions had worked. As our pictures appeared, my thoughts were confirmed.

"You look beautiful" Ambrosia complemented, breaking the tense silence. I did not look beautiful. I looked afraid. I looked weak. The girl in the picture looked like the one I saw before leaving my house earlier that morning. Her hair, build, complexion; everything was identical. Except her eyes and smile. They were not mine.

In them I saw fear. And if I could see fear in myself, everyone could. Including my competition.

**Please take a quick minute to review this chapter.**

**Your comments and critiques will really help as I try to develop my style of writing.**

**Thanks for reading!**


End file.
